Nothing politicised me more in the 80s than Care in the Community.
My brother was a rising mental health nurse star at the time and talked of little else for years. My family heard in graphic detail how Institutions up and down the country were closed and residents placed in the community with little or even no transitional support.
The idea was important and progressive, but as with so many policies, the implementation was often shocking.
DLA - Disability Living allowance was the scheme put in place to provide for the daily living costs disabled people faced to allow them to live "in the community" at all.
The Independent Living Fund provided extra support on top of DLA to just 21,000 of the most profoundly disabled people in the country. It amounted to an extra £300 on average, per month to allow someone to live in their own home, saving the state many thousands more on care they would otherwise have had to provide in residential centres.
Today, this government are scrapping DLA and the Independent Living Fund (ILF). DLA will be replaced with Personal Independence Payments (PIP) and the numbers claiming will be reduced by 20%. They are cutting the lower rate of DLA care payments altogether. It is not yet clear whether or not the ILF will be replaced at all.
Under Universal Credit, Iain Duncan-Smith's new flagship welfare reform policy, seriously disabled children will only receive half the amount they do now.
Children disabled from birth will no longer receive contributory entitlement when they reach adulthood. This will seriously limit their ability to live independently from their families.
Sickness benefits for those who have paid into the system will be limited to just one year for most, limiting the ability of those with long term conditions to live independently, making them utterly dependent on family or a partner to survive.
All of these cuts are proposed by Mr Duncan-Smith's department.
Today I read that Mr Duncan Smith admits that Care in the Community was a "£100 Billion Failure"
Those with mental health problems, he says, did not get the community support they should have done.
Well, Mr Duncan-Smith this is horribly true, and nor did the physically disabled. Your proposals, when taken together, represent the single biggest attack on independent living to them in recent memory.
I haven't even mentioned the cuts to social care happening up and down the country. The single biggest threat to dignity and support the disabled have faced.
Mr Duncan-Smith your weasel words on Care in the Community belie your actions. Cutting almost every vital aid to independent living will only send us back to the 50s. You acknowledge the problem. Now address it.
Monday, 5 December 2011
DWP get sums wrong on ESA - By 1 Billion!!
DWP's billion pound mistake on sickness and disability benefits: government forced to revise up forecast spending on ESA
H/T Declan Gaffney
The independent Office for Budget Responsibility has said that spending on Employment Support Allowance will be £1bn higher in 2014/15 than previously forecast by the government. It says that this is because fewer people are expected to be assessed as 'fit for work' and more people are expected to be given unconditional support than the government had previously assumed.
This is a major revision to DWP's earlier forecast of £9.7bn ESA expenditure in 2014/15.
The OBR says ''ESA changes have resulted in an increase in expenditure of £1bn by 2015/16 *
They go on to say 'The latest administrative data suggests that fewer people than previously assumed will be judged 'fit for work 'as a resut of the initial ESA work capabability assessment and reassessment of incapacity benefit cases, and more will be placed in the support group.This accounts for four fifths of the increase.'
That sounds a bit wonkish doesn't it? Trust me, this is fascinating news! What it means is that the government has to find a billion pounds more than the Chancellor included in his calculations to spend on Employment Support Allowance. And what that means is that a billion pounds more has to be spent on ESA mainly because the DWP will not be able to find as many people fit for work or 'work-related activity' through their work capability assessments as they'd claimed.
So although they aren't saying this explicitly, the DWP would seem to be admitting that their previous assumptions about how many people were able to work were grossly exaggerated. This implies that thousands of sick and disabled people have been wrongly denied ESA over the last three years and thousands placed in the Work Related Activities Group who should have been put in the Support Group and given unconditional support
It's not hard to see the reasons for this change. Since the first report of the Harrington review of the WCA last year, many more people have been placed in the ESA support group than previously, and fewer found fit for work. It is clear now that the WCA has been a disaster, driven by lazy assumptions about claimants and spending targets plucked out of the air.
However, the government is still going ahead with its plans to time limit contributory ESA to just 12 months for people in the WRAG and to deny contributory ESA to people who have been disabled from childhood.
*in fact, their tables show the increase is £1bn by 2014/15 p.146-7
This is a major revision to DWP's earlier forecast of £9.7bn ESA expenditure in 2014/15.
The OBR says ''ESA changes have resulted in an increase in expenditure of £1bn by 2015/16 *
They go on to say 'The latest administrative data suggests that fewer people than previously assumed will be judged 'fit for work 'as a resut of the initial ESA work capabability assessment and reassessment of incapacity benefit cases, and more will be placed in the support group.This accounts for four fifths of the increase.'
That sounds a bit wonkish doesn't it? Trust me, this is fascinating news! What it means is that the government has to find a billion pounds more than the Chancellor included in his calculations to spend on Employment Support Allowance. And what that means is that a billion pounds more has to be spent on ESA mainly because the DWP will not be able to find as many people fit for work or 'work-related activity' through their work capability assessments as they'd claimed.
So although they aren't saying this explicitly, the DWP would seem to be admitting that their previous assumptions about how many people were able to work were grossly exaggerated. This implies that thousands of sick and disabled people have been wrongly denied ESA over the last three years and thousands placed in the Work Related Activities Group who should have been put in the Support Group and given unconditional support
It's not hard to see the reasons for this change. Since the first report of the Harrington review of the WCA last year, many more people have been placed in the ESA support group than previously, and fewer found fit for work. It is clear now that the WCA has been a disaster, driven by lazy assumptions about claimants and spending targets plucked out of the air.
However, the government is still going ahead with its plans to time limit contributory ESA to just 12 months for people in the WRAG and to deny contributory ESA to people who have been disabled from childhood.
*in fact, their tables show the increase is £1bn by 2014/15 p.146-7
**x-posted from benefitscroungingscum.blogspot.com
Sunday, 4 December 2011
Welfare reform will reduce poverty? Purleeease
This is just a little memo to myself really.
According to the government
""Our reforms will move 350,000 children and 500,000 adults out of poverty."
This is clearly such utter twaddle that I wanted to make sure I could come back to them in 2015 and remind them of yet another lie.
Perhaps no coincidence that just yesterday I read that they were thinking of re-defining poverty altogether. After all, if you haven't got a hope in hell of meeting a policy objective, the best thing to do is move the goalposts eh?
According to the government
""Our reforms will move 350,000 children and 500,000 adults out of poverty."
This is clearly such utter twaddle that I wanted to make sure I could come back to them in 2015 and remind them of yet another lie.
Perhaps no coincidence that just yesterday I read that they were thinking of re-defining poverty altogether. After all, if you haven't got a hope in hell of meeting a policy objective, the best thing to do is move the goalposts eh?
Dear UN : SOS!!!
The quite excellent John Pring at Disability News Service dug up this murky little nugget of breathtaking cheek from our delightful coalition. http://www.aboutaccess.co.uk/article.php?id=254&item=Government+rewrites+history+for+UN+report+
It seems that the government had to prepare a report for the UN disability convention. Apparently, the report was meant to describe
"measures that are being taken to implement each of the articles of the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities."
However, in a dazzling piece of collective amnesia, our very own UK government didn't seem to think it necessary to mention the eye-watering level of cuts to disability benefits, services and support.
Despite an "Initial Report" running into a zzzzzzzzzingly epic 126 pages and an even more lengthily off-putting "Annexe" of 167 pages, there appears to be nothing at all discussing the impact £9.2 billion of cuts will have on disabled people's "rights"
One might think that up to 600,000 people losing Disability Living Allowance, for instance, might, you know, impact on how Disabled people erm, Live? That abolishing the Independent Living Fund might, well, have some impact on how Independently we can Live? That cutting Access to Work might make it, erm, harder to, well, Access Work? Cutting Social Care might make the care we receive a little less Social? Capping housing might, well, lead to some people losing trifling little things like, THEIR HOME??? Never mind the astonishingly sinister Disability Denial of ESA, where nearly 2 million people will miraculously be found "Fit to Work" after all, simply by pressing a few buttons on a LIMA computer screen?
I can only hope that whereas misinformation, distortion, omission and double-think seem to be perfectly acceptable in the UK, the UN will take a rather more "Real-Life" view of our rights.
SOS UN : UK disabled people here! You can skip the 293 pages of fantasy our government just sent you if you like. Send food packages!! Send tents! Send Peacekeepers!
It seems that the government had to prepare a report for the UN disability convention. Apparently, the report was meant to describe
"measures that are being taken to implement each of the articles of the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities."
However, in a dazzling piece of collective amnesia, our very own UK government didn't seem to think it necessary to mention the eye-watering level of cuts to disability benefits, services and support.
Despite an "Initial Report" running into a zzzzzzzzzingly epic 126 pages and an even more lengthily off-putting "Annexe" of 167 pages, there appears to be nothing at all discussing the impact £9.2 billion of cuts will have on disabled people's "rights"
One might think that up to 600,000 people losing Disability Living Allowance, for instance, might, you know, impact on how Disabled people erm, Live? That abolishing the Independent Living Fund might, well, have some impact on how Independently we can Live? That cutting Access to Work might make it, erm, harder to, well, Access Work? Cutting Social Care might make the care we receive a little less Social? Capping housing might, well, lead to some people losing trifling little things like, THEIR HOME??? Never mind the astonishingly sinister Disability Denial of ESA, where nearly 2 million people will miraculously be found "Fit to Work" after all, simply by pressing a few buttons on a LIMA computer screen?
I can only hope that whereas misinformation, distortion, omission and double-think seem to be perfectly acceptable in the UK, the UN will take a rather more "Real-Life" view of our rights.
SOS UN : UK disabled people here! You can skip the 293 pages of fantasy our government just sent you if you like. Send food packages!! Send tents! Send Peacekeepers!
Friday, 2 December 2011
Government Cancer PR Disaster
Oh yes, I forgot to say.
You know how I often point out the fact that if you have IV chemotherapy you qualify for unconditional ESA support, but if you take chemo orally, you don't?
Yup, it's that tough. Despite the fact oral chemo or radiotherapy can be just as physically devastating as IV, one meant you got unconditional support, the other meant you had to attend work related interviews!! Yup, seriously. No, I'm not making it up.
As you can imagine, Macmillan Cancer Support campaigned pretty hard on this issue, pointing out that the system was clearly unfair.
Well, after due consideration, the government appear to agree. It is, they conclude, clearly unfair that the scrounging IV chemo and radio patients are getting off scott free. Therefore, the government suggest they will all now have to face work related interviews.
Yup, seriously. Yes, you did read that right.
Anyone undergoing chemo or radiotherapy for cancer should not be considered unfit for work, according to the government. (Unless they have less than 6 months to live, great ole softies that they are)
I can't even think of a snappy conclusion. I literally do not know how to put that into words.
If however, the government are actively looking for ways to create the biggest PR disaster of all time, then surely this will be a top contender?
You know how I often point out the fact that if you have IV chemotherapy you qualify for unconditional ESA support, but if you take chemo orally, you don't?
Yup, it's that tough. Despite the fact oral chemo or radiotherapy can be just as physically devastating as IV, one meant you got unconditional support, the other meant you had to attend work related interviews!! Yup, seriously. No, I'm not making it up.
As you can imagine, Macmillan Cancer Support campaigned pretty hard on this issue, pointing out that the system was clearly unfair.
Well, after due consideration, the government appear to agree. It is, they conclude, clearly unfair that the scrounging IV chemo and radio patients are getting off scott free. Therefore, the government suggest they will all now have to face work related interviews.
Yup, seriously. Yes, you did read that right.
Anyone undergoing chemo or radiotherapy for cancer should not be considered unfit for work, according to the government. (Unless they have less than 6 months to live, great ole softies that they are)
I can't even think of a snappy conclusion. I literally do not know how to put that into words.
If however, the government are actively looking for ways to create the biggest PR disaster of all time, then surely this will be a top contender?
Feckless Parents - Oh IDS, you Tool!
Today, a headline in the Telegraph screams :
"Feckless parents would only spend extra benefits on themselves, says Iain Duncan Smith"
He goes on to argue that giving benefits to parents of children living in poverty is self defeating as it only re-enforces dependency, creating yet more of the "perverse incentives" this government are so convinced exist.
Immediately, the entire country sees Wayne and Waynetta, blowing their cigarette smoke into a cot, spending their giros on cheap booze and a wrap or two of coke. Perhaps reclining in front of their 50" plasma screens with a nice cardboard pizza and a couple of tinnies.
My HUUUUUGE issue with this kind of angle is the millions of "good" "hardworking" families who never had a fag in their lives. Never go on holiday. Never go to the cinema. Never have money for the school trips all the other kids go on. Many work, but their wages still do not insure them against poverty.
All the while politicians just see an amorphous mass of scallies, all the time they allow headlines to reinforce their prejudice, we will continue to see "scrounger" headlines, continue to see rising hate crime and division.
Presumably, ministers will continue to be "perplexed" at just why the media print things in the way that they do.
Presumably, ministers will continue to be "perplexed" at just why the media print things in the way that they do.
Thursday, 1 December 2011
So how am I?
I'm ill. Three little letters. Ill. A word so short, you might miss it if I say it quickly. A word so subjective, you will not know what I mean.
Bit-of-a-sniffle ill.
Depressed-and-hopeless ill
Mystery-virus-ill
Need-a-bit-of-attention ill
Would-death-not-be-better ill
Which one did you think of? What does ill mean to you?
I start from a base of Already-pretty-damn-ill. But that's my "fine." I run to the loo, wearing the hall carpet down as I go. 5 times, 8 times, 12 times a day or more. It makes me weak. Dizzy. Exhausted. Sometimes, after lunch, the need to just sleep is so strong I try closing first one eye, then the next in shifts. I shake as I make my toddler his lunch. Stumble as I carry it in to the lounge. Stars dance and float in the corners of my eyes as I bend to open the washing machine or haul myself wearily from the car.
Occasionally and embarrassingly, I shout out in pain. I might be in a restaurant or a cinema. My vocal chords would appear to get no advance warning. Otherwise I forget the pain is there. A dull backdrop to school nativity plays and boring committee meetings.
Endurance.
But when does "endurance" become "normal"? Oh...... years ago. Sometimes, I spend an hour or so, my face perplexed, wondering just why I've had such a bad day. Friends, with the luxury of objectivity ask me gently if I was up in the night. I nod. "When did you last eat - and keep it down?" I think.....
And the treatments. A parade of pointless poisons. In my case anyway. One made me vomit all day, every day. Another gave me headaches so bad, my consultant feared they were the precursor to a brain tumour. Steroids gave me osteoporosis. Innocent little white drops, dissolving my bones. A calcium sacrifice to the Great Intestines, because nothing matters more than keeping me alive. Bowels rule everything.
And the last option. The real red-button treatment. Sterile little packs, delivered to my door. To be refrigerated. Sharp little needles full of stingy, cold, syrup that I jab into my belly every fortnight. Like a little bit of AIDS. They weaken me. My pesky little T Cells that are supposed to defend me from germs just won't take it easy you see. In my body, they never switch off, turning on me, attacking me, gnawing away at me until something bursts or fills with poison.
The pre-filled syringes make these T Cells lazy, encourage them to take a day or two off. Trouble is, all the other germs get the same memo. A cold, a flu, a chest infection, a virus. Like teenagers who's parent's have gone away for the weekend, the message spreads - Party! Sue's immune system, don't be late!
Which is worse? The constant crohn's or the constant infections? Does it really matter? The results are the same. Dave still has to respond to my SOS when I can't remember my own name through the fever and can't physically get to the kitchen to make the boys their lunch. He still has to risk his own job and rush home to care for us all.
I'm still sitting here, all alone, propped up on pillows, too weak to even have a bath. I'm still looking at the same bedroom walls, too sick to get up and draw the curtains, to let a little light flood in. I'm hungry and a bit cold, but there's still no-one who can wave a magic wand, drop their own lives and come and make me a cup of tea or a hot water bottle.
I'm still sad. I still feel defeated and a bit useless.
I have to tell you today, because tomorrow, or whenever this latest viral-intruder stops thrashing me in his jaws, I will report breezily that I'm "not too bad". I'll look a little thinner, my eyes a little darker.
But today, today I can't even muster denial. Today I know that it won't be long before the bedroom-days get more frequent than the school-run days. Today I realise that my ever constant family and friends are already planning hospital contingencies and compassionate leave. Today I wonder.... just for a flicker of a second..... how long my frail, ravaged little body can stay on the right side of "miracle" Tomorrow, I will believe the answer is forever.
Today, I can't pretend that my 7 yr old is just going on a "play date" after school. No, today, my mind tells me oh so clearly that I'm using up another favour, calling on another chunk of goodwill. Today, I can't pretend that my toddler going to nursery all day is just an "adventure".
No, today I can see that I'm losing the battle. Again.
And of all the ironies, of all the thoughts I am left here with, alone with too much time, I remember that this is a battle the most privileged, the most powerful don't even believe exists. It is a battle politicians believe can be overcome. If I just tried a little harder, dealt with my destructive "illness behaviour," I too, could be a fully paid up, financially productive member of their version of society.
Now isn't that bizarre? And even a little bit sinister?
Bit-of-a-sniffle ill.
Depressed-and-hopeless ill
Mystery-virus-ill
Need-a-bit-of-attention ill
Would-death-not-be-better ill
Which one did you think of? What does ill mean to you?
I start from a base of Already-pretty-damn-ill. But that's my "fine." I run to the loo, wearing the hall carpet down as I go. 5 times, 8 times, 12 times a day or more. It makes me weak. Dizzy. Exhausted. Sometimes, after lunch, the need to just sleep is so strong I try closing first one eye, then the next in shifts. I shake as I make my toddler his lunch. Stumble as I carry it in to the lounge. Stars dance and float in the corners of my eyes as I bend to open the washing machine or haul myself wearily from the car.
Occasionally and embarrassingly, I shout out in pain. I might be in a restaurant or a cinema. My vocal chords would appear to get no advance warning. Otherwise I forget the pain is there. A dull backdrop to school nativity plays and boring committee meetings.
Endurance.
But when does "endurance" become "normal"? Oh...... years ago. Sometimes, I spend an hour or so, my face perplexed, wondering just why I've had such a bad day. Friends, with the luxury of objectivity ask me gently if I was up in the night. I nod. "When did you last eat - and keep it down?" I think.....
And the treatments. A parade of pointless poisons. In my case anyway. One made me vomit all day, every day. Another gave me headaches so bad, my consultant feared they were the precursor to a brain tumour. Steroids gave me osteoporosis. Innocent little white drops, dissolving my bones. A calcium sacrifice to the Great Intestines, because nothing matters more than keeping me alive. Bowels rule everything.
And the last option. The real red-button treatment. Sterile little packs, delivered to my door. To be refrigerated. Sharp little needles full of stingy, cold, syrup that I jab into my belly every fortnight. Like a little bit of AIDS. They weaken me. My pesky little T Cells that are supposed to defend me from germs just won't take it easy you see. In my body, they never switch off, turning on me, attacking me, gnawing away at me until something bursts or fills with poison.
The pre-filled syringes make these T Cells lazy, encourage them to take a day or two off. Trouble is, all the other germs get the same memo. A cold, a flu, a chest infection, a virus. Like teenagers who's parent's have gone away for the weekend, the message spreads - Party! Sue's immune system, don't be late!
Which is worse? The constant crohn's or the constant infections? Does it really matter? The results are the same. Dave still has to respond to my SOS when I can't remember my own name through the fever and can't physically get to the kitchen to make the boys their lunch. He still has to risk his own job and rush home to care for us all.
I'm still sitting here, all alone, propped up on pillows, too weak to even have a bath. I'm still looking at the same bedroom walls, too sick to get up and draw the curtains, to let a little light flood in. I'm hungry and a bit cold, but there's still no-one who can wave a magic wand, drop their own lives and come and make me a cup of tea or a hot water bottle.
I'm still sad. I still feel defeated and a bit useless.
I have to tell you today, because tomorrow, or whenever this latest viral-intruder stops thrashing me in his jaws, I will report breezily that I'm "not too bad". I'll look a little thinner, my eyes a little darker.
But today, today I can't even muster denial. Today I know that it won't be long before the bedroom-days get more frequent than the school-run days. Today I realise that my ever constant family and friends are already planning hospital contingencies and compassionate leave. Today I wonder.... just for a flicker of a second..... how long my frail, ravaged little body can stay on the right side of "miracle" Tomorrow, I will believe the answer is forever.
Today, I can't pretend that my 7 yr old is just going on a "play date" after school. No, today, my mind tells me oh so clearly that I'm using up another favour, calling on another chunk of goodwill. Today, I can't pretend that my toddler going to nursery all day is just an "adventure".
No, today I can see that I'm losing the battle. Again.
And of all the ironies, of all the thoughts I am left here with, alone with too much time, I remember that this is a battle the most privileged, the most powerful don't even believe exists. It is a battle politicians believe can be overcome. If I just tried a little harder, dealt with my destructive "illness behaviour," I too, could be a fully paid up, financially productive member of their version of society.
Now isn't that bizarre? And even a little bit sinister?
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